


Comfort

by DidYouGetYourWish



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Awkward Boners, Backrubs, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Massage, Pining, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DidYouGetYourWish/pseuds/DidYouGetYourWish
Summary: Zuko's got some aches and pains from training, and Sokka offers to help out. Zuko realises how touch starved he's been and wants to return the favour.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 486





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first piece of fanfiction I have written in almost 10 years, and the first thing I've properly written in general for 3 years, so apologies if I'm a little rusty! This is set once Zuko has joined the gang, but before The Boiling Rock, though it doesnt really matter. What you are reading is basically me living vicariously through these dumb boys, as I am in desperate need of a massage!

Frowning at the dying fire, Zuko groans and rolls his shoulder, rubbing the muscle and wishing the ache would just subside. It’s late, and almost everyone has retired to their tents aside from him and Sokka, and they watch the fire as it slowly dwindles.

He glances up at Sokka, and is surprised to find the other looking straight back at him. The dying firelight casts a gentle glow on the water tribesman’s features, mostly obscured by the surrounding darkness. Despite the low light, his eyes appear luminous, the blue so striking against his skin, and Zuko cant help but freeze at the attention.

“Something wrong?” Sokka enquires, eyebrow rising as he pokes a stick at the fire. Zuko resists the urge to bring the blaze up again, reluctant to use his firebending around the others too often, as though that could make them forget who he is.

“It’s just my shoulder, I think I pulled something when I was going through some steps with Aang earlier.” Rotating the arm, he winces and breathes in sharply through his teeth. “Though, it honestly feels like Toph has just crushed me between two rocks. I can’t name a single part of my body that doesn't hurt right now.” He frowns, kicking some dirt with his shoe.

Internally, Zuko wrestles with the embarrassment of showing weakness and the power of recognizing fragility, one he learned from his father, the other from his uncle.

He is broken out of his thoughts when Sokka quietly asks, “Do you want a massage?”

“W-what?!” he quietly sputters, incredulous and intrigued all at once. Sokka rolls his eyes, throwing his arms out and shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s just I’ve been told I’m very good at it, is all.”

Zuko doesn't notice the nervous look in Sokka’s eyes, as he himself is too busy struggling with the same feeling. It feels like a trick, a ruse, but when he looks back up, Sokka’s expression is genuine, eyebrows slightly raised in question.

“I… don't think I’ve had one of those before.” He murmurs uncertainly.

“Great! Then you have no one to compare me to!” Sokka winks and stands, brushing imaginary dust off his trousers as he strides purposefully around the fire.

He holds out a hand to Zuko, and once again they’re both too caught up in their own heads to notice the others’ hand shaking before they grip one another. As though scared Zuko would back out, Sokka doesn't let go until they reach his tent.

When he pulls back the tent flap their eyes meet again, and Sokka smirks, “Nervous about being alone in the dark with me?” Zuko rolls his eyes and huffs, striding into the tent and flicking a candle on. Realising what he’s done, Zuko freezes, but the other just mumbles “that’s handy”, his attention on tidying up, fussing over the furs and sheets strewn about. Just being in someone else’s tent makes the heat rise in Zuko’s cheeks, thinking about the intimacy of sharing such a personal space.

Just as fear begins to get the better of him and he considers leaving, Sokka pats the plush bed and watches as Zuko awkwardly kneels to lie down. “It would, uh, be better without your shirt in the way.” It almost sounds like a lie, and Sokka wont look at him, but Zuko decides to call his bluff. With a flourish, he strips to the waist and folds his clothes neatly beside them before lying down, looking anywhere but into those blue eyes.

Nothing happens for a while, and Zuko begins to wonder if the other had chickened out of this strange game they seem to be playing until he feels fingers skim his shoulders. He sucks in a breath and holds it, trying to be as still as possible lest his fidgeting belie his nerves.

Zuko realizes he hasn’t been touched with this kind of tenderness since he lost his mother, and it’s makes him feel both terrified and exultant. Displaying this kind of vulnerability was alien to him, and he had to resist the urge to shake Sokka’s hands off.

He feels those very hands trace the scars littering his back, and cannot hold back a shudder at the light touch. When the massage finally starts, Zuko has to grit his teeth, trying to hold back a growl as the aches magnify under prying fingers.

While it doesn’t take long for the pain to ease off, Zuko is still tense; acutely aware of how close Sokka is to his naked back. The water tribesman makes him nervous at the best of times, but now, in the solitude of the tent, Zuko’s unwanted feelings for the other come into sharp focus.

“Zuko, this is supposed to be relaxing, so you can…. you know…. relax.” Sokka continues kneading the tight muscle around Zuko’s neck, applying pressure in all the right places. _He really is good at this_ …. Zuko muses to himself as the hands trail lower, and before he is able to stop it, a quiet moan escapes his lips. The hands pause briefly before picking up their motion again on his lower back, and he hears the smugness in Sokka’s voice as he speaks, “Told you I knew what I was doing.”

Zuko’s cheeks burn and he’s glad his face is hidden, grumbling “Shut up.” Under Sokka’s careful ministrations he feels his body turn to putty, and Zuko begins to notice his other senses. He can hear Sokka’s gentle breathing, and his nostrils tingle with the scent in the air, earthy with a hint of ocean salt. The candlelight behind them casts a shadow onto the tent wall, and the silhouettes being cast look almost vulgar. Zuko closes his eyes to the sight, warmth spreading through his body as it responds to all the sensations he’s experiencing.

If it were anyone else doing the massage he would probably have fallen asleep, but Zuko doesn't want to miss a second of this. Being touched was not something he was used to, and while everyone in the gang were quite tactile, patting him on the shoulder or even hugging him, it still felt strange to receive physical affection.

Whenever Sokka would touch him casually, a quick pat on the leg after a joke, or an adjustment to his fighting stance during training, his whole body would become electrified. But it wasn't the kind that hurt, rather it made the hairs on his arms stand on end, and the skin would tingle where he’d been touched.

He knew what this meant, and tried to avoid thinking about it as much as he could. But here, half naked in Sokka’s quarters, it was impossible to ignore: He had feelings for the obnoxious idiot.

Not that knowing this fact made things any easier, after all, Sokka was very insistent on mentioning all of the ladies he had wooed on his adventures with the avatar. Whether they were true or not, Zuko couldn't tell, but the message was clear enough: he liked girls.

Zuko tries to remind himself of this now; to slow his heart as it beat so fast it feels like it could burst out of his chest. Of course, it doesn’t work, and so he resigns himself to the disconnect between his relaxed muscles and racing mind.

When the massage is over, Sokka sits back on his haunches and asks, “All better?”

“Something like that.” He pauses, reluctant to get up, “Thank you. I really needed it.”

“No problem!” Sokka says brightly, “Plus, now you owe me one!” Zuko’s heart skips a beat and he nods, awkwardly getting up and bundling his clothes in front of himself. Sokka looks ready to speak again but Zuko is suddenly desperate to get out of the tent. He gives the other a quick bow and quickly exits, cursing his formal behavior, _who bows anymore!?_

He lies awake in his own tent for a long time, playing the experience over and over again in his head. It’s not until Zuko takes himself in his hand and works through it physically that he is able to finally fall asleep, dreaming of blue eyes and strong fingers.

* * *

Over the next few days things don’t seem to change in the way Sokka interacts with him, though Zuko can’t be sure but he feels the other’s eyes on him frequently. But whenever he looks up, the water tribesman’s eyes are always somewhere else.

Eventually, he gets sick of feeling watched, the giddy nervousness in his stomach becoming too much to bear, so he joins Katara on a trip to the narby market for supplies. They don't talk much, Zuko clearly not in the mood for it, and once there she gives him his half of the list and they drift apart. He feels self-conscious once he’s alone, hood pulled low out of fear of being recognized.

He is only half-focused on his task, ambling between stalls and gazing noncommittally at their wares, until he comes upon a table boasting to have the best oil infusions in the land. He scans the bottles, not really thinking of much, until the stallholder interrupts his dazed thoughts. “Looking to spice up your cooking perhaps? I’ve got a lovely chili oil that would be perfect!”

When Zuko doesn't respond, he takes a different tact, wolfish smile growing, “Or perhaps a nice lavender oil for your lady to dab behind her ears? Wonderful aroma, you wont be able to stay away from her!” Zuko flushes, clenching his fist around the heavy bag of shopping before he speaks, slowly. “Do you have any… uh… massage oils?” Under normal circumstances he’d just grab the nearest thing and pay, but he wasn’t feeling quite himself today, thoughts muddied by the boy back at camp. The man indicates a few options and Zuko ponders for a moment, settling on a bottle and paying, and slips it into an inner pocket of his robe.

Once they’ve unpacked everything back at camp, Zuko busies himself with practice. He tries to keep his mind occupied by running through some stances with Aang, but Sokka is nearby, with a sheen of sweat on his bare skin as he chops firewood. Several times Zuko feels eyes on him, but as before, by the time he looks Sokka’s head is down, sharpening his boomerang or stacking logs.

He’s so distracted that Aang even gets the better of him during their sparring, and he cites his aching shoulder as the reason, calling an end to the day’s session. Moving to a soft patch of grass, Zuko sits down and closes his eyes, regulating his breathing in meditation. The distant thud of blade on wood is rhythmic and almost soothing, and he finds himself synchronizing his breaths with the sound.

Before he realizes it, the clearing has gone silent and he opens his eyes, instinctively resting his gaze on Sokka. For the first time in what feels like forever their eyes actually meet, and his stomach flips uncomfortably. To mask this, he frowns, squinting his golden eyes and mouthing, “What?!”

Sokka gives him a strange look, before rolling his eyes dramatically and shrugging, calling between cupped palms, “Do I _need_ a reason to look at you?!” Zuko purses his lips and exhales sharply before closing his eyes again, trying to draw himself back into that meditative state. But his mind is occupied with those words, his stomach twisting itself in knots at the hopeful possibilities. In another context that could have sounded romantic, but Zuko has to forcefully remind himself that this is _not_ that context.

He is suddenly caught up in the thought of the two of them, happy, together, looking at one another across a table with fingers entwined between them. He asks what Sokka is staring at with a smile, and Sokka gently repeats those words, “Do I need a reason to look at you?” The daydream makes his heart hurt, chest tightening so painfully he gasps. The breath he lets out is deep, like his lungs couldn't wait to be empty, and Zuko stands, giving up on the idea of peace until darkness drops around them like a cloak.

Time passes painfully slowly after dinner, and he only vaguely participates in conversation, lost in his own head. At one point Sokka gets up to leave and Zuko almost follows him, but he quickly returns with a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. One by one, the rest of the gang retire to bed, until it is once again just himself, Sokka, and the crackling fire. He tries to speak, but his mouth is dry and he chokes a little on his words, “Sokka-“

“Hm?” Some of the hair has fallen out of Sokka’s wolftail and hangs in thin strands over his face, distractingly beautiful in the dim light.

“I, uh… wanted to pay you back. For the massage.” Zuko forces himself to keep looking at the other, sick of shying away. Sokka’s expression doesn't change much, and Zuko can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his neck through the silence.

“Like, now?” Zuko doesn't fail to notice the way Sokka’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Well, no- not if you don't want-“

“That sounds pretty good actually, that chopping earlier really did a number on me!” He laughs openly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Zuko isn’t sure who he’s more scared will back out, himself or Sokka, so he steels himself and gets up, striding purposefully to his tent without looking back. He doesn’t need to tidy anything as he always ensures to keep a respectable order to his living space, regardless of where he is in the world. His eyes catch on the bottle of oil and he almost goes to hide it, but Sokka opens the tent flap and strolls in. His eyes roam around the space inquisitively, having never been inside Zuko’s tent before.

That feeling of vulnerability returns, the minimal space in the tent forcing them to stand closer together than they ordinarily would, and suddenly Zuko is overcome with another wave of uncertainty. Without ceremony, Sokka yanks his top off and drops himself bodily onto the bedroll, a huff of air escaping his lips.

The candlelight flickers, casting shadows and accentuating the lines of muscle covering Sokka’s body. It’s nothing Zuko hasn’t seen before, and yet like always, he finds himself staring. “I hope you don't mind… I found a massage oil in town, thought I could try it out.” His voice is strained, and he works to keep his tone flat as his mind screams at the sight of this boy on his bed.

Sokka turns and looks at him, signature eyebrow raised as he grins, “Been planning this, have you?” Sometimes Zuko just wishes he would just shut up, and is briefly distracted by the ways he’d like to get Sokka to do just that.

“Just lie flat, will you?”

Sokka rolls back onto his front and rests his chin on his folded arms. Without even thinking, Zuko seats himself on Sokka’s thighs to get better access to his back. By the time he realizes, it’s too late to get off without arousing suspicion, and Sokka makes no mention of it. He opens the bottle and the smell of cinnamon and cloves wafts up to him, comforting in its warm, well-rounded scent.

He drips some of the oil onto the expanse of skin in front of him, and flexes his fingers, wondering what the hell he is doing. Luckily, only he can see the way his hands tremble with want and fear, the desire to touch the one he likes so much battling with the apprehension he feels for the very same reason.

Taking a breath, he presses down, both hands smoothing the oil out and he begins to rub small circles into the dark skin, seeking out knots and massaging them away. Zuko feels so wrong doing this, feeling somehow that he’s taking advantage of the situation as an excuse to touch Sokka. The air around them is colder tonight, and seeing the goosebumps on Sokka’s arms, Zuko heats his palms a little as he works on the muscles.

Sokka makes no attempts to hide the pleasure in his voice as he groans with abandon, the sound low and rumbling. It makes Zuko’s throat dry, and he swallows thickly, frowning at the back of Sokka’s head where it’s propped against his arms.

“You don't have to sound so…. lewd.” Zuko mumbles, trying to focus on the toned flesh beneath him, fingers tracing an old scar on Sokka’s shoulder blade, pale against the skin around it.

“Hey, I’m just expressing my appreciation. If you think it sounds vulgar, that’s on you, buddy.” Sokka hums contentedly. Zuko is silent, continuing his work despite the uncontrollable heat creeping up his neck.

After a while Sokka shifts, turning his head to look up at Zuko over his shoulder. Zuko is only able to hold his gaze for a second before he drops his head, hair falling in front of his eyes as if to hide away from the curious look he is getting.

“Am I embarrassing you?” The glint in Sokka’s eyes is mischievous, and his quick grin is almost feral before his eyes slide shut and he lets out a moan so erotic that it makes Zuko’s jaw clench and hands twitch. He is suddenly reminded of the position they are both in, intimate, but not in the way that haunts Zuko’s sleeping and waking thoughts.

Sokka is trying to get a rise out of him, Zuko knows it, and to his horror he realizes that there’s certainly one kind of rise he’s getting. For a moment he’s paralyzed, brain running in so many directions it’s hard for him to pick a train of thought. Sokka is still looking at him, and suddenly his eyes widen, glancing down and then back up to Zuko’s red face, “Are you-“

Mortified, Zuko stands, haphazardly wiping the oil from his hands onto his trousers, ruining the rich fabric. “I have to go,” he mumbles tightly, his body burning hotter than he’s ever felt before and he rushes out of his tent. The air outside is cool and calm, and it almost surprises Zuko enough to distract him from the burning humiliation.

With a desire to put as much distance between himself and that tent, Zuko strides into the dark forest, until he comes to the lake they bathe in. Stripping off his clothes he leaps in, almost gasping at the shock of cold water that has long cooled from the heat of the sun. He swims a few laps across the dark water, feet propelling him forward ferociously as though he could swim away from the embarrassment.

After tiring himself out he lays back to float on the lake’s surface, glaring at the stars twinkling above him. “What made me think that was a good idea?!” He hisses through clenched teeth, throwing a palm down on the water. “Agni, what was I thinking?” He closes his eyes, sighing sadly as he drifts across the lake.

He doesn't get to enjoy his solitude for long because, to his distress, he hears Sokka call his name from the shore. Like any reasonable person, he ignores it. “Hey, Jerkbender, I’m talking to you!” Zuko has to firmly resist the urge to fling a fireball his way just to get him to leave. Something large drops into the water near him and he pulls his head up, seeing Sokka pick up another rock.

“Stop throwing things at me!” He yells across the water, adding an afterthought, “And leave me alone!” He can practically see the eye-roll from where he’s now treading water.

“Not until you talk to me, idiot!”

Zuko is about to yell something back, but he suddenly realizes how sick of all this he is. Sick of the long looks, the sleepless nights, everything. He swims back to shore and, suddenly reminded of his nakedness, asks Sokka to turn around so he can get dressed. The anger in his voice is dampened by the nature of the request, and his cheeks still burn a little as he pulls his clothes on.

“Fine, I’m here now, we can talk.” His wet clothing sticks to his skin, and he warms his body up to get them dry, wafts of steam floating away on the night breeze. For a moment Sokka just stares, eyes wide and face serious as he regards him. Zuko sighs and rubs his face.

“So, what happened in the tent-”

“-Was a mistake, and will never happen again. I’m sorry you had to see that.” Zuko is terse, already longing for the comforting distance the lake gave him.

Sokka steps forward, “No! I… didn’t mind – I _don't_ mind! I was just surprised is all, I didn't expect you to feel that way,” He pauses and lick his lips, “…about me.” Even in the faint glow of the moon, Zuko can see Sokka’s face is red.

“I don't!” he blurts out, automatically defensive, “I mean, it doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like you feel the same.” The words almost hurt him to say out loud, never having the courage to speak them into the world before, to make it real. He looks down at his fidgeting hands, rubbing his knuckles and twisting his fingers in knots.

“You really are a dumb Prince aren’t you?” Zuko’s head whips up, and Sokka is trying to hide a smile, failing miserably.

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you _really_ think I was inviting you to my tent just for a back rub?” When Zuko continues to stare, dumbfounded, Sokka chuckles, “I never knew you were so sheltered.”

“Then what was I doing in your tent that night?” He thinks he knows what Sokka is implying, but Zuko is so scared of making any wrong assumptions that he daren’t take any chances. Now it’s Sokka’s turn to look uncomfortable, seemingly for the first time, and he stumbles over his words, “Well, I… uh… you know, wanted to talk… and stuff…. In _private_.”

His emphasis on that last word hangs between them. Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, “Can you just say what you really mean, for once?”

Sokka’s eyes almost roll out of his head as he groans, “Spirits, preserve me!” before knocking Zuko’s hand out of the way and kissing him. Time stands still in a way it has never done before, and Zuko is dimly aware of a hand resting on his neck, and his own hands moving to Sokka’s waist as they press together under the stars.

Zuko can smell remnants of the oil on Sokka’s skin, mixing with his natural aroma in an intoxicating way. He could smell that forever and never tire of it. As the kiss deepens, he feels a thumb stroke his jaw, and he could almost weep with joy, the long months of yearning seemingly at an end, an ending that was better than he could have thought possible.

When they finally part, his lips tingle and he tentatively touches his fingers to them, as though to feel the press of Sokka’s lips against them again. “So that was something, huh? You’re a pretty good kisser, you know that? Where did you-“ Sokka starts to ramble, and Zuko shuts him up with another crushing kiss.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to shut you up like that.” Zuko says breathily, flicking his now messy hair out of his eyes.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll be sure to talk even more in the future!” They both laugh giddily, still holding onto one another. Zuko gives his shoulder a squeeze and Sokka cringes, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

“That reminds me, you never did finish that massage…” Sokka smirks, beginning to back away from the fire bender. Zuko shakes his head but smiles anyway, and takes the hand being offered to him. He allows himself to be lead through the forest back to his tent, making sure to commit those warm hands to memory for the rest of his life.


End file.
